


Think About Direction, Wonder Why You Haven't Before

by Devilc



Category: Friday Night Lights (2006)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Humor, Laundrylist, dramady
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-10
Updated: 2010-03-10
Packaged: 2017-10-07 21:06:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devilc/pseuds/Devilc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Story contains a major spoiler for FNL S4</p>
            </blockquote>





	Think About Direction, Wonder Why You Haven't Before

**Author's Note:**

> Written for FNL_Laundrylist #37 prompt #14 -- What does the death of Henry Saracen look like to somebody at the far periphery? What does Vince, Mindy, Luke, Becky, Lyla or even JD think about it?

Tim swung by the house when he got back from hunting to drop the guns and ammo off. He and Matt didn't shoot a damn thing (big surprise), but Tim's tales of how Matt was the kind of guy who shot at anything that moved, and how he dive-rolled for cover made Mindy laugh, which made Billy grateful, because she'd been tetchy as hell all week. Then again, being as massively pregnant as Mindy was right now just couldn't be fun at all.

As Billy walked Tim back to the truck, he said, "I missed going hunting something fierce. Maybe -- maybe next year after the baby's here and things are settled we'll go hunting again. Just you and me."

But Tim didn't smile or say yes or anything like that. He just got a far away look in his eyes and said, "Things change, Billy. Nothing gold can stay."

Billy snorted and shook his head. "I'm glad to see you remember _something_ you learned in high school."

"Oh, is that where I heard that?" His voice was all innocence, but his eyes twinkled.

"Tim, I don't think anybody in America escapes high school without reading that poem."

Tim smiled at the truth of that as he started his truck and drove off.

"Baby, can you fetch me a glass of water?" Mindy asked from her spot on the couch as soon as he got in the door.

He studied her for a moment, then said, "You sat on the wrong cushion and got stuck again, didn't you?"

Her death glare told him everything he needed to know.

"How 'bout I help you get up?" He held out his hands.

"I don't want to get up right now. I'm comfortable -- finally. I just want a glass of water is all."

As he handed her the glass of water (with 3 cubes, just like she liked it) and joined her on the ratty old couch (yeah, it was time to get a new one, but that would have to wait until there was some post baby cash) and rested his hand on Mindy's Mount Everest belly, Billy laughed inside as he thought about that old poem. Nothing gold stayed, but more often than not, something new and gold in a completely different way came along, and you were an idiot if you didn't see that.

Perhaps in 10 years he and Tim and his kid would be out in the hills hunting and fishing. Hell, Tim might even have a wife and a few kids of his own and their kids would all grow up together and that would be good. It would be nice to have some family in town.

~oo(0)oo~

The phone rang just as he was about to climb into bed.

"Matt's dad got killed in Iraq while we were out hunting." The rawness of Tim's voice said everything else Billy needed to know.

He blew out a long breath. "Damn."

"They spent most of the afternoon trying to call us, but we forgot to put our phones back on."

He raked a hand through his hair and said, "Like hearing that kind of bad news sooner is better?"

"Not a damn thing we could've done about it anyway," Tim agreed, but his voice held a note of hesitation.

"Not a damn thing," Billy assured him.

"I - I'll see you in the morning, I guess."

"Yeah." He hung up the phone. _Shit._

"What did Tim want?" Mindy asked somewhat crankily from her side of the bed.

He laid down and looked up at the cottage cheese on the ceiling before he replied, "Matt Saracen's father is dead."

"What?! How?" She rolled over, shaking the bed violently.

"Well, he was in _Iraq_, so ...."

Mindy's face crumpled like she was about to cry, but she fought it back and got a hold of herself. "Damn hormones," she hissed under her breath, "setting me off at every damn thing." A moment later she said, "I feel sorry for Grandma Saracen. Tyra liked her, you know."

Billy nodded, even though it was news to him that Tyra knew Grandma.

"I ever tell you about the trip that we -- Momma, me, Tyra, Grandma, and eventually Lyla Garrity took to State that year? Landry drove us in that old hoopty of his and ..." she chucked at the memory. "Damn, it sounds like it should've sucked there and back, but we had so much fun. She's one funny, _funny_ woman, Grandma Saracen."

"So tell me more," Billy said. _Because I think we're all going to need something to smile about._

~oo(0)oo~

Tim called him the next morning just as Billy tucked into his eggs. "So ... I kind of promised Becky and her mom that I'd do this thing with them this morning." His voice made Billy think of sludgy old oil glopping out of a crankcase. "But the wake's this afternoon ...."

Billy shook a too big dash of Tabasco onto his eggs. _Damnitall._ "Do both." After a long, bone-deep sigh at the state of both his eggs and Tim's dilemma, he continued, "Go do whatever it is you gotta do this morning with Becky and her mom, because you do not want to piss off your landlady --" _I love you, but I sure as hell don't want you back right now, I've got enough on my plate._ "-- and just explain that you've got to leave a little early for a wake. They'll get it."

The pause was so long that Billy wondered if the call had dropped before Tim murmured, "Okay" so softly that Billy had to strain to hear it.

"Tim, you still got that key for the booth at Hermann Field?"

He could almost see Tim frown in thought through the phone. "Yeah, Billy, I do. Why?"

"Because I think it would be a good idea for you, me, Matt, and whatshisname, Matt's buddy who helped you pass English --"

"Landry. And he's my friend, too."

"Landry. And we'll go down there on the field and blow off steam. There's only so much condolences, and doilies, and old blue-hair ladies, and deviled eggs -- we're going to rescue him."

Tim snorted. He liked the idea. "Will do, Billy. Will do."

Billy set the phone aside only to be met with Mindy's arched eyebrow. He looked her in the eye and said, voice flat, "Tim and his friends need me."

Mindy's face turned muley for a moment and Billy thought she would argue about how she and the coming baby needed him and that her water might break any moment now, but she swallowed hard and nodded. "You were good with Momma when Aunt Evalina died," she said quietly before getting up and lumbering away from the table. "I'll talk to her about going to the wake."

~oo(0)oo~

He came home to Mindy pacing, hands cupping the small of her back. She answered the question before he even asked it. "Heartburn from too many deviled eggs. Baby's wriggly tonight, too."

Billy smiled lopsidedly back. "Well, it is a _Riglet_."

"Silly." She snorted and shook her head. Then, voice as soft as a kitten, "But that's what's good about you Billy. You aren't afraid to be silly every now and again."

He held his arms wide. "C'mere, cutie pie."

"You smell like a brewery," she said as her arms wrapped around him, but her voice had no heat in it.

"You're just jealous 'cause you miss margaritas." He ruffled her hair.

Against his collar bone she said, "I felt a little weird being there."

"Hmmn?"

She blew out a short sharp breath and said, "It's just that we're so obviously getting ready to be happy and ... there I am at a wake. It's a party for being sad."

Billy had never heard a wake described quite that way before. "Sounds a like a shitty kind of party to me."

That got a giggle-snort out of her. "They are. They always are. What about you guys?"

Billy chewed the potential answers to that question before he decided on: "We got drunk and ran around on the field --" _And Matt unloaded and it damn near made Tim cry, because, hell, our dad drove our mom off, too, but he didn't even bother finding a way to ditch us that at least looked respectable. Three years and 500 miles between us and I still couldn't hate him more if I tried._ "-- and then we went down to the funeral home so Matt could have a moment with his father."

"But I heard --" Mindy jerked back out of his arms, eyes huge pools, her hand hand at her lips. Her mouth opened and shut a few times, and her eyes flashed as she spoke, "Billy Riggins, tell me that you _did not_ sneak a look at what's in the casket."

Billy stepped back and drew in a long, shuddery breath. "No Mindy, I didn't. Just stood back a ways and paid respects." _I'm not fucking 7. But Tim's tall enough that he might have caught a glimpse and ... whatever was left set Matt off again._ "Tim's coming over in the morning. His good suit's still in the hall closet."

She smiled tiredly at him. "Then we had better get ourselves to bed, Billy Riggins. Tomorrow's going to be a long day."

~oo(0)oo~

All morning, at the funeral, and at the reception, he had the Byrds' "Turn Turn Turn" stuck in his head. There were worse earworms, Billy supposed, such as Starship's "We Built This City." But right now, he was not in the mood for another lesson about the circles of life and how there was a time to grieve and a time for joy, especially since he didn't have any distance from it.

~oo(0)oo~

"Oh, turn this one up," Mindy said as REM's "Stand" came on the radio. "I love it." She began to sing along.

Oh why not?

He joined her, and at the top of their lungs they let loose. (It got "Turn, Turn, Turn" out of the endless loop in his head, thank goodness.) Felt good, too. Cleansing somehow.

"I always feel really happy when I hear that song," Mindy said when they finished.

"Why?"

Her expression carried a dumptruck's worth of _well, duh, Billy_. "Because it's a song about being happy. Like, looking around and seeing that things aren't really so bad, and if they are, well, get a direction and keep going until you're in the place that you love, and then be there."

He turned the corner. "I can't argue with that logic." (_Listen to reason/the Seeeason is calling .... Okay, there were worse earworms than an REM song._)

"Good, because when we get home, we're putting it on and doing the little dance they did in the video, like we did when we were kids."

"What?!" He hit the brakes a bit harder than he meant to, causing Mindy to glare at him something fierce as she cradled her belly.

"Because I'm tired of sad parties, and deviled eggs, and cheese and crackers, and Grandma Saracen shredding her kleenex, and I can't have margaritas, so we're doing the Stand Dance."

And as he looked over at her and heard himself say, "Okay, Mindy, we'll do the Stand Dance," Billy realized that yeah, for a dorky song, it really was right.

Sometimes, the only thing you could do was stand in the place that you loved and let the rest sort itself out.

(And who knows, maybe the Stand Dance would finally -- _finally!!!_ \-- cause Mindy's water to break.)


End file.
